Thomas Sangster imagines!

Five - drunken Love (for PeanutButterKisses)

Woo! I’m back with another imagine! This one was a request by @PeanutButterKisses and I loved it so much! It was such a good idea, and I hope it’s okay. I kinda took the sad, dramatic road, but I was feeling rather emotional so ya know! Drips into my writing.

Please don’t forget to comment, vote and share this story!

-Amber

<3 Xx

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

 I yawn and look up from the book I was reading. The alarm clock on our desk, next to a photo of us, says 3:30am. Where is he? Thomas is never out this late… I place my book down onto my night stand and walk over to the desk. Sitting in the desk chair, I pick up the photo. It’s from when we were seven, my birthday party. I smile, remembering the paint we got all over our faces and clothes, because we thought it would be fun to have a paint fight. Our parents were so mad.

I put the frame down, and pick up my phone, no messages.  He said he was going out with some mates, I hope he isn’t passed out in some alley way… Thomas never does this. He never stays out until early hours of the morning. I, on the other hand, probably would have been up this late reading anyway, but still! He could be dead somewhere for all I know. (y/n), calm down. He is fine. Sighing, I get up and walk into the small kitchen we have. Another picture stuck on the fridge with a magnet greets me as I pull its door open. It’s from our high school graduation. We’re pulling silly faces and throwing those weird hats. I was so glad to be out of that school and into the world. I take out a glass and fill it with some cold water, which I sip carefully.

Thomas and I have been best friends ever since I could remember. We went to primary school, middle school and high school together. And now we share an apartment while we’re at university.

All of a sudden, I hear the front open, and close. Thomas stumbles into the apartment, obviously drunk off his head. He sloppily chucks his keys into the bowl by the door, and comes into the kitchen, giggling like a school girl.

“Thomas, you’re drunk.” I state “It’s 3:45 in the morning!” I say to him, going over.

“Y/N!” he says, throwing his arms into the air, and then letting them drop to his sides. “It’s 3:45 in the morning, you know! You should be asleeeeep…” he said, putting his hands on my shoulders, eyes wide. I laugh at him, shaking my head. He’s always funny when he’s drunk. We’ve been drunk together a couple of times, it’s always a lot of fun. But we don’t do it often.

“Come on, you should be going off to bed now, Thomas.”

“But wait! I’m hungry!” he said, waving his left arm around, pointing to the kitchen and marching off.

“of course you are.” I mutter. And I follow him off to the kitchen, where I find him eliminated by the light of the fridge, smiling goofily.

“We have no food!” he said, turning to me and throwing his arms in the air again. I sigh, and go over to him. I nudge him over to the counter, and tell him to stay there while I make him something. I love cooking, so I don’t mind. And If I don’t, he’ll never go to bed. He’ll just whine for hours.

I take out the eggs, cheese, milk and ham, and start to make scabbled eggs. They’re the easiest thing to make and just happen to be one of his favourites. ( * A/N I have no idea what Thomas’ favourite foods are… :\ please comment them if you do!) As I crack the eggs into a mixing bowl, He says my name. I don’t turn to look at him.